“You’ll find out,” Sal shot back. “Get on the bed.”
Curtis hesitated a second before letting go of himself and lying on the velvet couch.
Sal strutted closer, feeling taller than they had on stage. “We need a safe word. How’s ‘brick’?”
Curtis nodded.
“Say it.”
“Brick.”
“Good. You’re sexier when you pay attention. Now, show me you can keep up and slide your hands into the straps.”
Curtis did what he was told, and Sal moved around him, trying to ignore the heat coming off his insane body, all tanned muscle and heavy bone—Masc with a capital M.
I’m in charge, they chanted in their mind.He’s just some guy, and I’m in charge.
They pulled the Velcro straps tight around Curtis’s heavy wrists. “You okay? Not too tight?”
“Nope.”
“And you’re sure you’re into this?”
Curtis nodded again, but the question was only a formality. His cock was heavy, leaking slightly on his tanned eight pack. Definitely a gym rat. Maybe a personal trainer or something terminally heterosexual like that. It occurred to Sal that they didn’t even know what Curtis did, but that was a good thing. It was bad enough he’d been friends with Byron. Looking down at their willing prisoner, Sal felt a rush of time pressure: to strap this lug of a dude down, bang him hard, then dash into the night. A quick fuck and an even quicker escape. They moved aroundthe bed and urged Curtis’ ankles into the foot straps, taping them over. The Velcro was too strong for Sal to shift when they were in place, but they doubted Curtis would have that problem. Still, due diligence was due.
Sal put two fingers under Curtis’ chin, forcing him to meet their eyes. “Trust me to make this good?”
“I do, I’m just... not used to this,” he said quietly.
“I can tell.” Sal brushed their free hand down the hard ridges of his chest. He shuddered like they’d taken his cock into their mouth. “But you don’t need to pretend you’re something you’re not with me. This is different.I’mdifferent. You like that, right?”
He nodded, shifting Sal’s fingers with his chin.
“So let go. Let me do what you want and use you however I want.”
Curtis stiffened for a second, then his body relaxed, and he pressed his head back into the velvet couch and closed his eyes.
“Okay.” The lone word sounded exactly like surrender. Sal smiled. Dominating was all about balance; letting your sub breathe and understand everything was on their terms, but keeping the leash tight enough to make it fun for everyone involved. They pulled the condom from their garter and tore it open.
“I’m gonna be honest with you, Curt,” they said conversationally. “Usually, I’d play with anyone I had strapped down for a good long while, but I’m horny and still angry you talked mad shit about my incredible body.”
He grinned, eyes still closed. “Thought you forgave me for that, babe?”
Babe. It was such a simple gender-neutral term, but it was how he said it so quickly and possessively that felt like a punch to Sal’s gut. They were supposed to be in charge, and it felt like he was trying to top them even with all his limbs pinned down.
“God forgives,” they said. “I don’t.”
It was a great line, but the condom was trembling between Sal’s fingers. They fought hard to conceal it as they brought their shaking hands to Curtis’s shaft.
He let out a low grunt as Sal gripped him.
"We're going right to it, huh?”
Sal rolled the condom down his cock, as wetness soaked between their legs. “Got a problem with that, Curt?”
He shook his head, but his teeth were clenched tight. Sal felt his cock pulse in their hand and knew he was as pent-up and frustrated as they were.
“You better not come before I do,” Sal warned. “Or I’ll leave you all tied up here and see what the others feel like doing to you.”
